Turn It Up

Chapter Twelve

The first morning she woke and didn’t feel like getting out of bed, Tasha didn’t say anything. It was too frightening to consider if she was pregnant, and too heart-wrenching if it turned out she wasn’t.

Instead, she put it up to not being used to having a younger guy in bed with her. Confessing he could wear her out? The thought made her smirk—he certainly seemed to be trying hard enough, both in and out of the sack. Over the past month she’d lost five pounds from their newly established exercise program, not to mention all the sex. Combined with their decision keep junk food out of the house, for the first time in four years she fit into her favorite designer jeans.

It was like having her own personal trainer twenty-four/seven.

Progress continued on her house construction, contrasting with a notable lack of progress when it came to mending fences with Lila. Her emails went unanswered, and she knew damn well Lila had to be screening her calls. The hurt inside ached at times. Tasha still hoped that whatever had gotten into Lila would smooth itself out, but until it did, there wasn’t much more she could do.

She was surrounded by stubborn people. But at least when it came to Max, his ability to dig in his heels made sense, even when it drove her crazy. Ever since he’d moved in and they were forced into constant communication, there was no leeway given over things he thought were important. It made it tough to maintain emotional distance from the guy, because he always backed up his arguments with logic she couldn’t deny.

While the physical attraction between them was clear, and man was she ever enjoying the attempting-to-get-pregnant part, she wanted more space. Not only because it had been over five years since she’d had a roommate of any kind. She needed some privacy, and soon, before the lines of friendship got even more blurred than they already were. Waking up to find herself cuddled up tight to him, or opening her eyes to discover him staring at her, gently stroking her hair back from her face—no way. No freaking way could she let that continue.

It was too dangerous. Screamed of all those other times she’d trusted someone with her heart and they’d turned around and taken advantage of her. Maybe Max would be different, but all she would acknowledge right now was his commitment to the idea of family. Not to her. Not yet.

She had to guard her heart. Time for desperate measures.

Tape measure in hand, she eyeballed the second bedroom of the apartment. It was crowded with her exercise bike and the tables Max had set up to put his computer equipment on. “You know, I think if we got one of those Murphy bed things we could fit it in here.”

Max looked up from where he was working, confusion blurring his features for a second. “Are you expecting guests?”

“No, for you. Until we move into the house and you can have your own room. Here, give me a hand.” She held one end of the tape toward him and slipped toward the corner to measure the space between the closet and the wall. “I mean, once I’m pregnant, we don’t need to keep sharing a bed. We don’t even need to share a bed now. Except for sex.”

He nodded slowly as he took the other end of the measure and held it to where she pointed. “I see. Can I make a suggestion?”

He waited until she acknowledged him, then gave a sharp tug on the measuring tape. The end she held flew from between her fingers, slapping against his chest.

“Max, what the hell are you doing?”

He dodged around the computer chair and snagged her hands in his. He slowly wrapped the tape around both her wrists as he spoke, holding her firmly in spite of her wiggled attempts to escape. “My suggestion is—no. Moms and dads sleep together.”

“But—”

“Get used to it. I’m not having a separate room from you so down the road we need to come up with all kinds of explanations for our kids.”

“We could switch things up later.” Oh God, he’d said kids. Like it was real and would be happening.

“Nope. May as well start now. That will give us a spare room in the house.” He tugged her closer with her immobilized hands between them. “Does this mean that you were planning on giving up sex once you get pregnant? I don’t remember that in the prenatal agreement.”

Busted. “It’s not, but—”

“Because I don’t think either of us would enjoy that idea. If we’re honest. I like having sex with you.”

Max nuzzled her neck and she gave up. And gave in, refusing to think too hard about the warm feeling his stubborn response lit inside.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” she grumbled.

“Of course if you start snoring—then all bets are off and we’ll talk.”

He grinned, untied her, and went back to his project.

That was another thing that amazed her—the way the man worked. He could have four things on the go at one time, and seem to keep them all moving forward simultaneously. Tasha shook her head and went back to her own work, carefully double-checking her blueprints and not attempting to imitate his seemingly chaotic approach. Anyone who pulled details together as randomly as he could made her suspicious.

A couple days later he was the one looking at her with suspicion as she sat up carefully and maneuvered her legs over the edge of the bed. A groan escaped, one hand rising to cover her mouth.

“So…?” He wandered around the end of the bed to stare down at her.

The rising nausea in her belly made her move slowly. “So, that casserole your cousins pawned off on us wasn’t my favorite. I think it’s repeating on me.”

She stood and swayed. He grabbed on instantly, his strong arms supporting her as the room spun.

Concern wrinkled his brow. “I think the casserole was fine.”

No, no, it definitely wasn’t. Tasha pushed herself free and barely made it to the bathroom in time.

He helped, quietly soothing her even as he pulled her hair out of the way and tied it back with an elastic band. Gave her a cold facecloth and rubbed her back until the shakes passed. Handed her a glass of water to rinse her mouth out.

Then he handed her a pregnancy-test kit.

She swallowed around the horrible taste in her mouth, now half caused by nerves. After all her planning and plotting, he might have handed her a snake.

Her mind raced. What if it was positive? What if she’d managed to get pregnant? Suddenly this whole arrangement they’d pulled together would be permanent and she’d have to face that fact.

Or worse, what if she wasn’t?

“It’s too early to know.”

Maxwell raised a brow. “I’m damn sure you are, from all the other signs, but humor me. These things are supposed to be able to pick up within a few days of conception.”

Other signs? Was she stupid or did he really think he could spot this faster than she could? “Fine, but I’m not peeing with you in the room.”

He rolled his eyes and dodged her feeble attempt to hit him, pulling her close and kissing her cheek in spite of her protests. “Hey, don’t worry about it. If you’re not pregnant yet, we’ll keep trying. It’s tough work, but I don’t mind.” He snatched up his toothbrush before backing away. He waggled his brows and she blew a raspberry at him.

“Did you at least buy the easiest test to figure out?”

He nodded. “If you’d like me to help you—”

“No. Thank you, but I’m not ready to share that pleasure, okay?”

Maxwell paused at the door. “Once you’re done, give me a shout. I want to…be there, please?”

They stared at each other and a warmth rose inside that had nothing to do with being embarrassed and everything with appreciating how caring he’d been. She nodded, he left. It took a face wash in icy-cold water, followed by a thorough tooth brushing before she felt human enough to face the packaging. She opened the kit with shaking hands, followed the directions and laid the test stick on the counter.

Then she fled the bathroom.

Max stood in the living room, facing away from her, the muscles in his shoulders and lower back tight as he looked out the window. The early-morning sun shining into the room cast a homey glow over everything, and Tasha paused. They’d been enjoying each other’s company the past weeks, getting to know one another better. She closed her eyes and fought to find that dividing line—she had to keep her emotional distance, no matter how great they got along. He’d never said a word about love; it had always been about choice and friendship. That’s what she wanted, what she could rely on for the long run.

When people started tossing the love word around, that’s when every one of her past relationships had broken down. She didn’t want this to fall apart. It couldn’t fall apart, not if that stick lying on the counter showed there was now a baby involved. Admitting they found a great deal of sexual pleasure in each other was fine, and friendship was fine. That’s as far as she was willing to go.

She beat down the fluttering inside that questioned why she wouldn’t want more. There was no way she would jinx this, not now.

Tasha went for as bright and happy an announcement as she could. Unfortunately, it came out sounding scared. “Set your timer, two minutes and counting.”

Max enveloped her in a big hug. He rubbed her back in slow circles, and they stood there, waiting for the future to arrive.

“I don’t think I can look,” she confessed.

He hummed gently, soothing her. “I don’t think you can not look. Again, I remind you we’ve got time. You’re not that old.”

She thumped him on the chest. “Not that old? You ass. That’s supposed to be reassuring?”

He smirked at her. “Well, I didn’t think you’d like to hear statistics right now, but the fact is you’re not old, and my age is in our favor, so…”

A short laugh escaped her. “I guess it’s a good thing I grabbed a boy-toy then.”

“Okay, now that’s getting nasty.”

She stuck out her tongue, and he hugged her again, and a whole minute passed. Standing still, her stomach gurgling lightly, his firm heartbeat under her ear, she felt like she was in a safe place, hiding away from all the potential dangers ahead. There was nothing she wanted more than that test to be positive. There was nothing she feared more. Everything would change. It was one thing to plan for a baby, another to have it actually happening. She clung to the tiny moment of calm, of not knowing for sure, while possibilities hovered, fraught with uncertainty.

Max tilted her chin up and kissed her. Soft, almost innocent. His toothpaste-tinged breath passed her cheek, and she closed her eyes and accepted his touch. Soaked in the distraction, accepted his caring, and marveled at how good a friend Maxwell had turned out to be.

It suddenly struck her how important this must be to him as well. All this time she’d been obsessing about having a baby, but it would be his child too. What was going through his head? Was he afraid, or worried about the future? Tasha wondered if there were expectations he had about being a father, things he’d learned from the Turner clan. Or if he wondered if the leap in responsibilities would be too much for him. She kissed him back harder, trying to reassure him that everything would be okay.

When they separated, leaning back to look into each other’s eyes, she didn’t feel nearly as afraid.

“You ready?” he asked.

No. But she nodded and walked with him into the bathroom. And when she saw the lines on the test read positive, she tucked herself against his chest and let him hold her as she cried.

It took three months to pass that magical point when she no longer felt green every single moment. The fear of losing the baby slowly ebbed as the weeks passed, and she made it through another prenatal checkup. In fact, her energy picked up enough that when she rolled over in bed and caught Maxwell still snoozing beside her, a wicked thought romped through her brain hard enough it simply had to be acted on.

Tasha adjusted herself carefully to lie close to his side before pulling the blankets back to reveal his firm upper body. The delicate dusting of hair on his chest swirled neatly down to a single line disappearing under the dark navy fabric covering his groin. He’d been sleeping in nothing but boxers lately, in spite of the dropping temperatures. He claimed she put off more than enough heat for them both.

Yeah, especially when he was around. Except with all the throwing up and physical changes, she hadn’t been that interested in sex lately. As in, they’d gone from daily to once a week if she could stay interested for that long. This morning a lack of interest didn’t seem to be a problem. She stroked a single finger down his chest, dipping into his belly button, before tracing the edge of his elastic waistband while she considered how nice it was to have her libido back.

His cock twitched behind the loose fabric of the boxers. Hmm. Even though he wasn’t awake, parts of him seemed to be registering her presence. She cupped him lightly and thrilled as his cock hardened, fast enough she knew the reaction was in response to her. The edge of his waistband was lower on one side than the other, bunched up by his hips, and as his cock expanded, there was a noticeable loss of room.

The rounded tip nudged past the top of the elastic to peek at her and she took a deep breath. Oh yes, this was getting very interesting indeed. She leaned over and breathed softly, letting her warm air wash over him.

His hips jerked.

Tasha found his responses fascinating, hooking a finger under the elastic and carefully pulling it down to reveal more of his length. She licked gently, then harder, before sucking the head of his cock into her mouth and swirling her tongue around the ridge.

“Sweet heaven on earth. I must have been a very, very good boy this year. If this is all I get for Christmas, I’m happy.”

She pulled back with a slight pop. “You’re easy to please.”

“That I am.” He propped himself up on his elbows and smiled down at her. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

She paused for a second to grab her pillow and arranged it to help support her head, then she took hold of his hips and pulled him toward her, letting his erection slip smoothly back into her mouth. He rocked his hips slowly, not pushing too far, letting her concentrate more on sucking as he pulled back rather than trying to go in all the way. She played with his balls, rolling them in her fingers, and he groaned loudly, tracings of his seed escaping to paint her tongue with his flavor.

Tasha took pleasure in the sounds from his lips that floated down to her. She really had been fortunate when she hooked up with him. Max had been extremely supportive over the last while as she struggled to keep herself going through the tiredness and nausea. Their sex life had very much been put on hiatus, and yet he’d never complained.

Now was as good a time as any to make it up to him.

Max seemed to have other ideas, reaching down to smooth a strand of hair back from her cheek. He stroked her jaw gently, teasing the seam between her lips and his cock for a second before retreating completely, drawing his hips back.

She tilted her head to pout at him. “I was enjoying myself.”

He pulled her up the bed and draped her on top of him. “I was enjoying myself too, but if you’re feeling up to fooling around, I don’t want your mouth.”

With a gentle sway of his hips, he pressed his erection against her, and suddenly she couldn’t wait to have him inside again. It had been too long, and she definitely had an eager partner.

Still… “Can I be lazy and make you do all the work?”

His eyes lit up and he rolled her slowly, supporting his full weight as they switched positions. “I do believe that’s possible.”

He rocked forward to kiss her forehead, then her nose. Dropped a quick kiss on her lips that she returned before he slipped his way down her body, stripping off her sleep shirt and panties and revealing her body to his heated gaze.

The physical changes so far were small, but she’d particularly felt an increase in her breast’s sensitivity. The light touch of his forefinger as he drew gentle circles around her areolas was just the right amount of contact to tease her without causing pain. She held her breath as he put his mouth on one nipple, but the delicate dabbing of his tongue against her skin felt amazing, and desire grew between them.

His every touch was deliberate, so careful and precise. Tasha reveled in it and finally let go of her tension. Max played her body like she was a rare treasure, increasing her arousal without ever making her cringe from an oversensitized backlash. He licked and sucked, stroking her until she grew feverishly hot, the ache between her legs needing to be answered. When he pressed into her, the width of his girth seemed to have grown larger since the last time, and he had to rock in, small bits at a time as she pulled up a leg to try to accommodate him better. A wash of pleasure rolled over her, not only in her core, but her skin as he continued to stroke wherever he could reach—her breasts, her belly, the hard nub of her clit.

There was no wild thrusting, none of the harsh, almost animalistic pleasure they’d shared in the first days of their sexual relationship. Tasha watched Max’s face as he joined them together, enjoying the play of emotion displayed there. The arousal, the tenderness. She couldn’t have asked for a better friend in her life, in or out of her bed, and when the first pulses of her climax started, constricting around his shaft, she spoke his name, accepting his kiss as he too found release.

They lay tangled together for a while, his weight strategically resting to the side even as he left their bodies connected. It was very intimate, and very right.

Max rested a hand on her belly. There was no change yet, nothing to show they had a baby on the way. Tasha had given it a lot of thought, and even though she was now okay with them telling people, the first announcement wasn’t going to be at the full out-and-out Turner-clan Christmas bash. No way would they share during that kind of insanity. Max had agreed—he suggested if they told his parents, Maxy, and his grandmother, the trickle-down effect of the big family network would be enough.

Tasha had already called her own mom and got a noncommittal “congrats”, given with about the same degree of enthusiasm that Mom had used when she’d called to say she and Max were married. No, it was clear that her extended family was now the Turners. And all of them were being as supportive she’d hoped, except for one notable exception.

“You ready to head to the Turner Christmas dinner?” he asked.

Damn. She swore he was psychic at times. She sighed lightly, rolling to run her fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm her suddenly shaky nerves. “Honestly? Yes and no. The dessert is in the fridge, and that’s all we have to bring, but I’m…”

The sentence didn’t need to be finished. He knew what caused her hesitation.

Lila.